Maleficar
by Retrogue
Summary: Eva Amell and Alistair find that circumstances push them together no matter how hard they try to despise one another. The templar and the blood mage form a bizarre companionship despite their many differences.
1. Chapter 1

I followed Eva Amell across the bridge leading out of Redcliffe. Morrigan, Leliana, Sten, and Ruffian the mabari warhound kept their distance from us. I sensed they could tell what was about to happen; several people have told me that a vein in my right temple protrudes when I'm angry. I could feel my right temple _throbbing_ and my jaw clenched almost painfully.

The militiaman guarding the bridge waved happily at us as we left the village. Eva responded with an uncharismatic hand gesture.

"What a charmer," Morrigan purred.

I tapped Eva on the shoulder. "I want to discuss what happened in the castle," I stated, making no attempt to sound like I wasn't angry. No, angry was an understatement. I was apoplectic.

"I was there. I know what happened," she replied without stopping or glancing over her shoulder at me. In fact, I could have sworn she started walking faster.

"How could you let Lady Isolde sacrifice herself like that? With blood magic? How could you do that?" I snapped, speeding up my own gait to keep up with her.

"Ask me nicely and maybe I'll answer," she retorted.

"Don't dodge the question, Eva!"

"Then ask me nicely," she repeated darkly as she took on a petulant march. Her jaw-length black hair swayed from side to side.

"We could have gone to the Circle of Magi. W-We could have tried harder!" I spat out, nearly stumbling over my words. "We should have tried something that didn't involve blood magic, that's for sure! This is the Arl's son we're talking about here. What are we going to say when we revive him?"

"Who says we even _can_ revive him?" she asked, suddenly stopping and whirling around to face me. "And what else would you have me do, Alistair? You were in the Lothering chantry with me when Ser Bryant told us that the templars have called for the Rite of Annulment. I don't know what that could mean, but _something_ is happening at the Tower. Something bad. Even if we did travel there and back so that the mages could perform the lyrium ritual, who's to say that it wouldn't be too late for the boy?"

"I just… I just don't know how you could do it, how you could make that decision. I owe the Arl more than this," I insisted

Eva quirked her lips as her dark blue eyes studied my face. After taking a moment to think of her next clever remark, she said, "Is being a Grey Warden always such a thankless job? In case you've forgotten, I entered the Fade to save the worthless brat from a demon. Besides, Lady Isolde had you thrown into the chantry against your wishes. She got her comeuppance as far as I'm concerned."

I took a step closer. The idea of hitting a woman seemed vaguely tempting. Well, maybe just a slap across the face. "Don't you dare speak of Connor in that way," I growled, trying to seem as menacing as possible. "And don't make this about me."

Eva also took a step closer. I hadn't thought she would stand her ground like this, but she did and that made me even more frustrated. Her dark cerulean eyes appeared black but perhaps it was simply the way the shadows reflected off them.

"Alistair," she said, drawing my name out, testing it like one would a wine to be critiqued. "We are possibly the only two Grey Wardens left in Ferelden. Do you truly want to fight with me? If you don't then please shut up so we can just get along. There are more important things at stake now than the Arl's trophy wife." Then her expression softened slightly, as did the tone she took with me. "If you think I don't feel horrible about what happened then you're wrong."

I was about to say something else, offer an apology for lashing out at her. Eva was clearly affected by the situation but I had been too enraged and self-absorbed to see it until then. She cut me off before I was able to utter a single word, however, when she leaned in until the tip of her nose was only an inch away from mine.

"Get off my back," she said venomously. Then she walked past me, making sure to bash her shoulder against mine. I looked at the others. Morrigan smirked condescendingly, Leliana shrugged sympathetically, and Sten just stared at me. Ruffian canted his head.

"Let's just get going," I said, turning to follow Eva. "We might make it to the Circle Tower tomorrow if we move fast enough."

That evening, we settled down in a clearing that bordered Lake Calenhad. I could see the tower in the distance; the black spire was ominously silhouetted against the cloudless twilight sky. The first stars began to wink across the universe at each other as though they shared some private joke not meant for the mortals stuck on the ground to understand. During the trek, Eva had not spoken a single word to anyone. When our eyes met, she'd glare pointedly at me.

I periodically glanced up from my campfire to see Eva at her own with a bottle she kept swigging from. Leliana briefly kept her company before retreating into her own tent. Only the Maker knew where Morrigan had gone off to. Sten sat across the fire from me and poked at the glowing embers with a stick. He made the flames surge back to life when they died down but he wasn't much for conversation.

At least Ruffian wanted to hang out with me; his chin rested upon my knee as I stroked the top of his head. "Do you think she always broods like that?" I asked him. "Is it a girl thing?"

Ruffian snorted in reply.

I heard a rustle. When I looked up, I saw that Eva's campfire was no longer ablaze and that she was walking off towards the north-towards the woods.

As I pushed Ruffian's head off my lap, I sighed, "Well, boy, let's go make sure she doesn't get jumped by darkspawn. Or bandits."

He barked.

I strode after her, Ruffian padding along at my heels. What in the Maker's name was she going off by herself for, I wondered. The dog halted in his tracks and lifted his muzzle into the air; he'd picked up her scent and then trotted down a narrow forest trail which was difficult to see in the encroaching darkness. I kept up with him.

It only took about a minute for us to reach Eva in a small clearing right alongside the lakeshore. At very first, I saw her boots which had been carelessly tossed aside and then I saw her sitting on the ground with her bare feet in the water. Her thin arms were wrapped about her knees. Of course, her bottle was right next to her. The Circle Tower loomed across the lake like a warning as the last sliver of sunlight slipped below the horizon behind it.

Ruffian approached her and barked at the side of her head. She flinched.

"Hush," she said, reaching out to pat the dog's flank. Then she glanced over her shoulder and did a double-take, which was surprising because I hadn't thought I was very quiet about catching up to her. "And what are you doing here?" she asked accusatorily.

"I saw you head off alone and I thought I should follow because I'm nice like that," I explained. "There are darkspawn and bandits and dangerous creatures that might… Swoop down on you. Not that you can't take care of yourself, of course… Right, I'll be quiet now."

Eva got up and turned to face me as she dusted her hands over the front of her skirt. "What's this really about? Are you still fixated on that thrice-damned ritual?"

"No, I'm not," I answered, somewhat dishonestly. " I've no interest in harping at you about Lady Isolde anymore. This is about your safety. It'd be easier to just watch you now than to plan a rescue effort later. Right, Ruffian?"

He barked.

Eva went silent for a moment. Then she said flatly, "How chivalrous of you_._"

"Do I detect bitterness in your tone? I mean, you're the one who suggested before that we just get along, right? So let's just get along."

She scoffed. "Oh, so you followed me just to deliberately try and get my goat."

"Yes, that's precisely what I did," I replied with a sardonic lilt.

"Well, you succeeded."

"Glad to be of service," I said, crossing an arm in front of my waist and offering a bow.

Eva raised both her hands in a gesture of annoyance and agitation. "Alistair, I joined the Grey Wardens without being… Fully informed. Granted, I had little choice in the matter but had I known what would be asked of me then I might have taken my chances with the templars. Being made tranquil doesn't seem so awful now." As she stated this last part, she looked over her shoulder at the Circle Tower, now almost impossible to see from such a distance in the dark.

Then she faced me again. "I'm trying to make the best of a shitty situation and I don't need you making things even shittier. Take your lectures and your finger-pointing and your wisecracks and kindly pike off. I want to be alone for a bit."

"Have it your way," I said, trying to sound casual about it as I turned to leave.

I made it about seven steps before marching right back to where I had been standing. I just _knew_ that if I left her alone, something bad would happen. As a fellow Grey Warden, I owed it to her not to let that happen if I could help it.

"On second thought, no can do," I stated, crossing my arms over my chest. "Sorry, Eva, but I'm not going to just leave you here. Blame it on my chivalrous side but you can't get me out of your hair that easily. Now, you can either come back to the campsite with me or we can stay here. So… What's it going to be?"

She replied with a throaty noise of frustration.

"Would you rather I picked you up and threw you over my shoulder like a sack of grain? Because I _could_ do that instead," I said. "It's an appealing idea, actually. I'm chilly and tired of being eaten alive by insects out here."

"I dare you to try," she said challengingly.

"I'm not going to," I replied. "By all means, I won't stop you from staring at the lake in that forlorn way you stare at things. I'll just stay in this spot. You won't hear a peep from me."

"Don't make me kick your ass," she said. Then she added, "Or turn you into a toad. I can do that, you know."

"Very funny, Eva. I dare you to try," I said, smirking wryly, though she probably didn't see in the dark. "By the way, this tough girl act you've assumed since we reached Lothering doesn't become you. You were more agreeable when I first met you at Ostagar."

"Watch yourself, Alistair. I can also light your hair on fire. Or make you explode from the inside out."

Just mentioning Ostagar put a lump in my throat. I then wondered how I could have been so short-sighted. She probably felt the same lump in the same place.

"I'm sorry, that was needlessly callous. What I meant to say is this…" I started, taking two tentative steps closer to her. She turned away, gazing out over the lake again and cold-shouldering me in the process. "You've had a rough time of it as well. I can't imagine it was pleasant being cooped up in that tower your whole childhood. And then the massacre at Ostagar. And the ritual. And everything, all this death... It just wears on me. It wears on us both, I'd imagine."

Silence.

I continued. "I'm beginning to realize that we might not see eye-to-eye all the time but we're both Grey Wardens and Maker damn it all, it's imperative that we stick together. At least until we defeat this Blight."

I reached out for her shoulder. Before my fingertips even touched her black fur mantle, she jerked her arm away as though she sensed my incoming hand. Sometimes I thought the girl had an invisible eye in the back of her head. She probably did too.

But I wasn't done with my speech yet. "This is not solely your struggle, Eva, and nor is it mine. It's ours. Look, if you want to talk about anything—anything at all—I'll lend an ear. Quite frankly, I'm rather curious about your experience in the Fade, though I understand if you're not ready to share. It couldn't have been easy, after all. Oh, and what about that Jowan fellow who you tried to help? He'd been a friend of yours at the Circle, no? Not that you have to tell me about him, I just thought it might make you feel a little better to get these things off your chest… Or not… It's up to you. Right... I'll just wait for you to finish brooding. I swear I'll be quiet as a mouse."

I took several steps back. In the uncomfortable silence, I became distinctly aware of the chilly breezing skimming my face and the sounds of crickets calling through the darkness for someone, anyone. Then I heard Eva take a deep breath. Alas, I thought, she lives.

"I'll have you know that mice can be quite noisy," she said. "There was one who lived in the library at the Tower. His squeaks used to echo through the rafters at night. You… You weren't supposed to wander the halls after bedtime but sometimes I snuck out of the apprentice quarters. Anyway, I named him Jack. Who knows if Jack was even a him? And he's probably not even there anymore. The templars wouldn't try to enforce the Rite of Annulment unless something serious happened, right?" she asked, turning around to face me again.

"Right," I confirmed. "Praise the Maker, now we're getting somewhere. See? You don't have to be such a closed book all the time! So, are you going to tell me what happened in the Fade or not? Sorry for snapping at you about that, by the way. I was upset and needed something to cast blame upon. You seemed like a convenient target at the time."

"Thanks a lot," she grumbled.

"You're welcome." I reached out and patted her shoulder. Although she tensed in response to my touch, she didn't pull away this time.

"Hey, Alistair, I have a question for you," she said. Although I had trouble seeing her face in the darkness, her tone made me imagine that she furrowed her brow thoughtfully.

"Mmmyes?"

"Would you do anything to stop the Blight?" she asked.

"Uh… Yes? Why? What are you getting at, exactly?"

"Damn the consequences and damn your own soul if need be, right?" she went on, gesticulating vaguely with her hands. "The ends justify the means."

"Eva, you're worrying me. What happened? Is this… Is this… This is about that ritual and the Fade isn't it? What's going on?"

She twisted her hands together in front of herself. "I was thinking about… The Blight… And… Well, it dawned on me that if we're hoping to stop it or even just make a dent in the darkspawn's efforts, we'll need more than a couple hedge mages, a loony Orlesian, a creepy serial killer, a dog, and a smartass prince. I sought outside help."

"Well, when you put it like _that_—Wait a minute… Eva, what did you _do?"_ I demanded as I reached out for her. She tried to sidestep me but my fingers clamped around her upper arm. I yanked her so that she faced me again. "Tell me right now."

"You said yourself that we could use extra help! You said that when we picked up that bard in Lothering!" she exclaimed as she tried to wriggle free. "Unhand me!"

Instead of unhanding her, I grabbed her other arm and shook her—albeit rather gently. "Not until you tell me exactly what you did."

She stopped struggling. "Let go of me and I'll show you," she said calmly. "I suppose it's best you find out now rather than be surprised by it when we're in the midst of battle."

I released her and crossed my arms over my chest.

"Give me your hand," she instructed as she fiddled with her arms. The darkness prevented me from seeing exactly what she was doing, though. Without waiting for me to offer my hand, she reached for it. "When that darkspawn raiding party ambushed us along the road here, Morrigan was hurt and you know she's horrible at healing spells—Maybe I should give her a few tips."

"Get to the point, Eva," I said impatiently.

"Right," she said, sliding her fingertips along the back of my hand. "Well, I was exhausted after the skirmish—Calling on those snowstorms knocks me for a loop every time, you know-and had to call on this… Outside help. Or maybe it's more like inside help. I don't know. She promised to keep my secret but I don't think it can stay a secret from you guys for very long."

Eva wrapped her slender digits around my wrist and guided my hand to her other arm. I realized that she had rolled up her sleeves as my fingertips brushed the soft, tender spot along the inside of her forearm. Something about what we were doing felt extremely intimate and dare I say sensual, or maybe it was just my lack of experience with women that lead me to think this. I heard the nervousness in her voice as she said, "You can't see it in the dark."

That's when I felt the thin, ragged gash right below the crook of her elbow. Quickly withdrawing from her, I hissed, "You're a blood mage. Since when? Is this why the templars were…" I hesitated and continued backing away. "Or did this happen in the Fade?"

"You were right the second time," she said softly.

"What? No! I should never have let you take part in that ritual. I should never have let Jowan corrupt you. I should have put my foot down!"

My temple throbbed again. I could taste bile in my mouth, though I hadn't even noticed it rising up inside me. I think my entire body shook with rage and the effort it took for me not to throttle at her. Suppress the templar, I reminded myself, you're him anymore.

"This isn't the time to second-guess yourself," she said.

"You're a blood mage," I repeated as I clenched my fists at my sides. "You… You…" I couldn't even speak straight let alone see or think straight.

"I'm everything you were trained to loathe, but I implore you to look at the big picture." She came closer to me. "I did what was necessary. You can thank me when I slit my wrists to save your ass in battle. Lyrium can only carry a mage so far, but blood holds power and we'll need power if we're to stand a fighting chance against this Blight."

I looked at her face but her features were shrouded in shadows. I looked at her black robes but I could barely tell where the darkness ended and her lithe form began. She seemed like a phantom that sucked the light out of everything nearby. My gaze shifted to the laze, to the clear black sky, to the ground, but nothing I saw would offer me the answers I searched for.

She placed her hand against my upper arm; I pulled it away sluggishly. "Don't touch me," I growled.

"I'm not the villain in this fucked up story, Alistair," she said as she fumbled about in the darkness to collect her boots and her bottle. "I'm not the monster you see when you look at me. I hope you realize that sooner than later. Now I have to go track down my dog. I think he ran somewhere while you were pontificating at me again. Goodnight."

I heard the underbrush swish and stir as she stalked off.

_Note: I have the second-to-last chapter done. Strangely, my mind cannot seem to work in a linear fashion so this story is being written completely out of order. It will still make sense if you read it now. In fact, it works as a stand-alone short story as well. The link to it is in my profile._


	2. Maleficar: Dark Promise

**_This totally works as a stand-alone but it's actually going to be the second-to-last chapter of 'Maleficar'. You can read the first chapter here if you want. There's a link to it from my profile. Unfortunately, I cannot get my mind to work in a linear fashion. I seem to be writing this story completely out of order! Feedback is appreciated._**

I should explain something about Eva's use of blood magic, though. I got this idea when I watched 'Rambo: First Blood'. Wounds inflicted upon oneself for the use of blood magic cannot be healed with magic. They have to heal the painful, old-fashioned way. This requires that a blood mage must stitch himself or herself back up sometimes. It'll all be explained in a previous chapter that I have not yet written.

Eva and Alistair left Riordan's bedroom in silence, both reaching over to shut the door behind themselves. They turned to face each other yet could not make eye contact. She hooked her thumbs on her belt and leaned back onto her heels for a moment before standing straight again. Alistair jerked his head to one side, cracking his neck.

"And he couldn't have told us before we decided to kill Loghain?" Eva asked as she shook her head slowly. "He would have made a great sacrifice for the Archdemon."

"He wouldn't deserve to die a hero," Alistair said firmly. Then he added in a more neutral tone, "But I see your point. If Riordan doesn't…"

He trailed off, tongue-tied. Eva reached out and rested her hand against his stubbled jaw.

"I should have known it was too good to be true," he said quietly, placing his own hand over hers.

"You know that our relationship wouldn't have worked out in the long run anyway," Eva said.  
>"I… No. You don't mean it. You're just saying that because it makes you feel better to think it wouldn't work."<p>

Although she did not respond, the pained look on Eva's face betrayed that Alistair assumed correctly. With his free hand, he fiddled with the single small braid she kept in her jaw-length black hair.

"I love you," he blurted out.

"Come, let's talk more in my room," Eva said, pulling back from him and turning to the door across from Riordan's.

"Can't you just say it?" he asked irritably.

She paused, her hand hovering over the doorknob. "What good would it do us if I did?" she asked, turning to face Alistair. "How about I show you instead?"

He sprang forth, grabbing Eva's face between his hands and smashing his mouth against hers. She kissed back, hungrily, as she reached behind herself and felt around for the doorknob. As he slammed her against the door, it flew open, banged against the adjacent wall, and then swung back again. They spilled into the bedroom, nearly falling over their feet as they tried to avoid the door. Alistair did not disengage from Eva as he back kicked it closed behind them—and as her hands fumbled to unbuckle his belt.

A loud cough interrupted them.

Slowly, Alistair and Eva detached themselves from one another only to see Morrigan standing next to the unlit fireplace with a smug look on her face.

"Awkward," Alistair announced as he fixed the state of his undone belt.

"What are you doing in here?" Eva asked, blinking in surprise. "Get out of my room."

"Are you sure this is your room, Eva?" asked Alistair. "I mean, there are a lot of rooms on this floor."

"Now, now, is that any way to speak to a friend?" Morrigan purred. "I'm just here to chat."

"And cockblock me, apparently," Alistair muttered under his breath. When Eva shot him a conspiratorial look, his cheeks flushed. Clearly, he had not intended for anyone to hear that.

Morrigan chortled.

Eva sighed and ran her hands down her vest in a futile attempt to smooth the wrinkles from its fabric. "What do you want?"

"To speak with you," Morrigan said. Her saffron-colored eyes then narrowed as she looked at Alistair. "Alone."

Eva's cheeks puffed as she let out a breath of indignation. "I'll just tell him what you said anyway so there's no point in kicking him out."

Morrigan crossed her slender, bare arms and took a few slow steps closer to the pair. "Isn't it funny how you turned against me as soon as you started rutting around with the templar? I think I had it right when I said that friendship is frivolous and fleeting. Alistair, if only you knew about the things she used to say about you when she still confided in me. She didn't always have such a… Robust opinion of you."

"I'm not getting involved," he grumbled as he touched Eva's elbow. "I'll be in my room down the hall when you two are finished."

Eva nodded as Alistair hurried out of her bedroom, closing the door quietly behind himself. The floorboards in the hallway creaked loudly as he walked off.

"Morrigan, look," she started as she wandered closer to Morrigan. "Tensions are high and Riordan's talk did nothing to reassure us."

"Trouble?" Morrigan canted her head.

"The Archdemon is bearing down on Denerim as we speak. Trouble is an understatement."

"Is there anything else you wish to mention?" A knowing smirk dancing upon Morrigan's lips.

"Were you eavesdropping?" Eva asked.

Morrigan turned abruptly away from Eva and crossed back over to the empty fireplace. "I have a plan, you see," she said. "A way out, the loop in your hole."

She went silent, waiting for a response that did not come. After a moment, Morrigan turned around again and continued, her eyes trained on Eva's face. "I know what happens when the Archdemon dies. I know a Grey Warden must be sacrificed and that sacrifice could be you. I have come to tell you that this does not need to be."

"I have no intention of sacrificing myself," Eva said coldly as she shrugged out of her black surcoat and tossed it onto the bed.

Morrigan's gaze shifted to Eva's arms which were webbed with scars, scabs, cuts, and sutures.

"But do go on," Eva added.

"What if Riordan fails? What if he's not there?" Morrigan asked as she looked back up at Eva's face. "I offer a way out, a way out for all the Grey Wardens. There need be no sacrifice."

Eva idly scratched at a half-healed scab on the back of her forearm. Morrigan frowned slightly as her attention was again drawn to Eva's disfigured limbs.

Morrigan continued, "A ritual performed on the eve of battle in the dark of night.—Stop picking!"

Eva's hands returned to her sides as she scoffed and said, "You have my attention."

"You of all people would know the prices we pay to achieve what we want," Morrigan said, gesturing to Eva. "Through self-mutilation you tap into a unique arcane medium far more potent than what any regular sorcerer could imagine. What I speak of is old magic, a ritual from long before the time the Circle of Magi was ever created."

"Always a catch."

Morrigan sneered and went on. "Some would call it blood magic, but I know that doesn't bother you."

"And from where did you get this ritual, Morrigan?" Eva asked as she sat down on the bed.

"From Flemeth, of course. I have known about it for some time."

"You knew about the sacrifice before Riordan told us?" Eva asked incredulously.

"I did. Would you have believed me if I had been the one to tell you? I have my doubts."

Eva laced her fingers together and twisted her hands—something she always did when she was nervous. Her shoulders rose and fell with her slow breaths. "Morrigan," she said, her voice barely above a raspy whisper. "Am I supposed to be surprised that you're a manipulative cunt?"

Morrigan brushed the verbal affront aside as she said, "What I propose is this: Convince Alistair to lay with me here tonight. From this ritual, a child shall be conceived within me. " Her voice wavered as she mentioned the child.

Eva rubbed the back of her neck. "Um… If this is your way of saying that you wish to experience Alistair before we all die to the Archdemon then go proposition him yourself. I'm not his mother and I don't keep him on a leash"

Morrigan sneered. "Darling, if I wanted him, I would have had him already."

Eva rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I'm sure. Go to him if you want him so badly. I left him all hot and bothered so maybe you'll be in luck. Or maybe you should stop trying to toy with me because you're bored. If you have anything productive to say then say it."

Morrigan walked over to Eva and hovered right beside her. "I'm not trying to toy with you," she said. "Now listen to my offer. If he does this then the child will bear the taint and when the Archdemon is slain, its essence will seek the child like a beacon. At this early stage, the child can absorb the essence and not perish. The Archdemon is still destroyed with no Grey Warden dying in the process."

"It's a fantastic idea until the Archdemon baby eats its way out from inside you," Eva said, leaning her head back to look up at Morrigan. "Or something equally gruesome. Are you insane?"

Morrigan waved her hands dismissively. "It will not be a darkspawn at all. It will become something different—A child born with the soul of an old god. After this is done, you allow me to walk away… And you do not follow. Ever. The child will be mine to raise as I wish."

Eva arched a single eyebrow. "Yes, you are insane. What the fuck possessed you to think this is a good idea?"

"Allow me to say that what I seek is the essence of the old god that once was and not the dark forces that corrupted it," Morrigan said tersely. "Some things are worth preserving in this world. Make of that what you will. The child will represent freedom for an ancient power, a chance to be reborn from the taint. Is that not reason enough to do it?"

Eva rose to her feet and paced away from the bed. "So you're a manipulative cunt and a megalomaniacal nutcase. Why am I still not surprised?"

"I will raise the child apart from the rest of society and teach it to respect that from which it came. Beyond that, you need know nothing else," Morrigan said. She too got up and walked over to Eva. "If you do not have Alistair go through with this then there is a strong likelihood that you will lose him or vice versa. You have many reasons to tell him to save his own life and you should consider them carefully."

Eva reached for Morrigan's shoulders and held them firmly. "Morrigan, look at me and tell me that you are positive beyond a shadow of a doubt that your child will not take the essence of the Archdemon but the old god? If everything you've told me up until now has been a lie then let this be your single moment of honestly. You owe me that much."

"I owe you nothing," Morrigan protested.

Eva's thumbs dug into the soft, fleshy spots right below Morrigan's clavicle where her arms met her shoulder joins. "Yes you do. Need I remind you that I killed Flemeth and fetched her grimoire for you? I battled a dragon for you. I…" Her grip on Morrigan relaxed a bit. "I would have done anything for you."

Morrigan closed her eyes and wrinkled her brow in concentration. "You do remember the concern I expressed that Flemeth is not truly dead, no? That is why I need this child. I do not believe she was truly killed, merely forced from her former body until she finds a new one. You did not stop her but merely delayed her. However, if this child carries the essence I seek then she cannot take either of us. This child will also represent my own freedom."

Eva gave Morrigan a little shove as she let go of her. Morrigan stumbled back though she regained her balance quickly.

"I don't care," Eva snarled. "I'm not going to let you undo everything we've fought for."

Morrigan snapped, "You would rather throw away your life—"

Eva cut her off. "Than live to see another Bight because the Archdemon wasn't properly slain? Actually, yes."

"How noble of you," Morrigan said sardonically

"Not really." Eva sighed. Her expression darkened for a second but she swiftly recomposed herself. "It'll only come to that if Riordan and Alistair both run aground.

Morrigan pursed her lips. "Oh? Isn't it awfully convenient that you now have that bungling idiot so tightly wound about your finger that he'd probably lay his life down for you? 'Twould seem I'm not the only manipulative cunt in this room."

"Some things are more important than your mommy issues. Even if your plan works as you expect it to then what will happen? What sort of horrors could a god child raised by a calculating apostate possibly inflict on the world? Or is that what you want to accomplish?"

Morrigan opened her mouth to speak but Eva continued. "Nail on the head, right? And now your agenda becomes a little clearer. Thing is, I've been expecting something like this from you all along. You're more transparent than you think. Look, I don't trust you but I get that you had your reasons for hiding your ulterior motives. I still don't think I completely understand what they are and that's how you want things to be, right? Congratulations, you made fools of us all!" Eva pointed an accusatory finger at Morrigan. "What a spectacle we must have made: The duplicitous, shrewd little vixen running around Fereldin with her puppets as they try and push the nation back from the brink of war."

Morrigan raised her trembling hands to her face and wiped her eyes with the heels of her palms. "Eva, when I said that I consider you a sister, I meant it. You were… The only friend I've ever really had. I…" She trailed off, choking on a sob that lodged itself in her throat and didn't make it out.

"And this is the part where you show us that you are vulnerable after all, that you do possess slivers of goodness in that blackened husk you call a heart. I've seen this act from you before so save the crocodile tears." Eva crossed her arms over her chest in a gesture of finality. "You've told me enough that I know your intentions are a far cry from benign. My answer is no."

"Then you are a fool," Morrigan barked as she brushed past Eva and stomped over to the door. "I will not remain here and watch you needlessly sacrifice yourselves."

"Wait," Eva said.

Morrigan halted in the doorway but did not turn.

Eva continued, "You best run far because come morning, I might just tell the templars about your harebrained scheme."

Morrigan slipped around the corner.

Eva sat down on the ground, wrapping her arms around her legs and resting her forehead against her knees. But then she quickly picked herself back up and reached for her coat on the bed. As she put it on carefully, she thought of Alistair's duel against Teyrn Loghain just three nights prior. Loghain was bigger, stronger, more well-equipped; Eva tried to stop Alistair from accepting the challenge, tried to have him let her be his champion because she thought her magics would stand a better chance at defeating Loghain but Alistair would have none of it. It was only because of a small charm she performed, undetected by anyone else in the room as all were focused on the duel, that Alistair came out of it the victor—and barely so. Loghain outmuscled his younger opponent but found himself growing increasingly sluggish as the fight wore on. When he took his final breath, Alistair was not far from that point either. At Arl Eamon's Denerim estate, while everyone else was abuzz about the prospect of Queen Anora ruling Ferelden alone, Eva cleaned and stitched Alistair's wounds but refused to heal them with her magics. "These are scars you'll want to keep," she told him. "Think of them as mementos of your triumph like feathers in your cap." Then she fucked him—the deed felt too desperate and was over too quickly to be considered love-making or even sleeping with. It was fucking, she decided, and it was not to be made into something it wasn't. But Alistair, ever the idealist, expected commitment. What's a little commitment in the face of everything else, Eva thought. Besides, it might be nice to know that something in her life was stable for a change. Had he not pressed her for that promise of commitment, she would not feel so terrible about letting the boy serve himself to the Archdemon—Damn him!

Eva realized that she'd picked a wound on her wrist until it opened. She wiped her bloody fingertips on her pants, put her coat on quickly, and then threw open the bedroom door. "Morrigan?" she asked, rushing into the dark hallway. "Are you still here?"

She nearly tripped over the long rug in the hall but she hardly noticed. "Morrigan," she repeated as she reached the top of the stairs. Her voice echoed throughout the foyer down below. "I change my mind."

"About what?" asked Alistair as he opened his door a crack and poked his head out. "I take it your talk with her is finished."

Eva's eyes strained as she looked for movement in the pitch blackness of the foyer. She willed Morrigan to step out from the shadows and say, 'I knew you'd see reason eventually.'

"Is something wrong? What happened?" Alistair went on.

"She's gone," Eva stated, finally turning to face him.

"What do you mean?" Alistair raised a brow. "Your catfight was that bad? Well, good job on driving the evil witch off, I guess… Seriously, though, she just up and left? Why?"

Eva's spindly fingers fiddled with the hems of her sleeves. How do you tell someone that his only chance at evading death might have just left and that it was your fault, she wondered.

"Doing away with Flemeth didn't buy her as much time as she thought it would," Eva said, sounding timorous even to her own ears. "She claimed that she had to leave now if she wanted any hope of giving Flemeth the slip."

"Selfish bitch," Alistair muttered. "And after we fought her dragon-mother too. What a shock. Morrigan bit the hands that fed her. Nevermind that, though. I finally have you to myself again."

Eva followed him into his room, closed the door, and watched him take his shirt off quickly. She watched him slip it over his head and drop it on the ground, she watched his well-defined back muscles tense momentarily he did this. He had a truly spectacular physique, she thought, and she was taken aback by it every time she witnessed him shirtless.

It was only a few days since the Landsmeet and what had transpired between the two Grey Wardens afterwards. The long trek from Denerim to Redcliffe did not stop them from constantly absconding from their group to knock boots behind a patch of shrubbery or learn how their bodies worked down by a secluded creek. She started to feel sore after the first several times but did not care; she had not previously thought it possible to go at it five times in a day. That sort of carnal fervor only happened in the smutty books she read when she was bored in her tent. She'd been here before—and it seemed new every single time-but not with the same sense of urgency she felt with Alistair. One couldn't feel this wild when trapped inside a tower, she figured in retrospect. Soon the insatiable lust would calm down and they would grow pleasantly familiar to each other. He would kiss her on the cheek. He would call her 'dear'. They would smile at each other across crowded rooms. They would make love slowly enough to savor each other.

But they had only tonight and he was still a stranger whom she had not fully explored, whose contours her fingertips had not yet memorized.

Eva's concentration broke when she realized that Alistair was speaking, though his voice sounded garbled as though they were underwater. She looked at him, saw that his expression had a peculiarly wounded quality to it, and knew that he shared her thoughts.

"Blow out the candle please," she said softly.

He looked as though he was about to question her request, but instead he padded over to his nightstand and extinguished the flame by pinching the wick. Darkness flooded the room. Not even a trace of moonlight shone through the slatted windows

"Duncan will do his duty," Alistair said but his voice possessed a hollow quality. "I'm sure of it."

The floorboards creaked as he slowly approached.

Eva traced her toe in a circle upon the ground. "You deserve better than me—Than any of this."

Alistair wrapped an arm around her shoulders and nuzzled his face against the top of Eva's head. His other hand rested against the small of her back. "Now's not the time to second-guess yourself." Judging from his intonation, he smirked as he said this.

"Hey, you don't have the right to use my own lines against me just because we're screwing," Eva responded as she buried her face against his neck. "You're right, though. I'll not let my uncertainty cripple me any longer."

"Good."

She felt the sting of tears forming at the corners of her eyes. No, she told herself, you cannot cry. Alistair's hand wandered lower until it rested against Eva's ass: the ass which compelled him to let her take point most of the time, the ass that-as he told Zevran while they were chatting privately once-existed in a fourth dimension beyond pants.

"I love you," she said, her voice muffled by his neck. "I want you to always know that, alright? Now enough talk."


End file.
